Dana Why is the musical alias of Dana Yurcisin, NJ-born and bred singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and producer. A maximalist at heart, his productions are brimming with experimentation that spans genres while retaining the strong, melodic foundations of pop.
Having self-recorded and released four albums and two EPs between 2009 and 2019 under the name Static Sex, Yurcisin started releasing music under his own name in 2020, a choice that came with his increased comfort in mixing his voice front and center in his songs.
The Lyre, a self-produced/mixed/mastered and sprawling 15 song set of rock epics and tumultuous, heart-on-sleeve storytelling is his first full length statement as Dana Why, boldly introducing a new era of bigger, more hi-fi productions for the artist. Recently, we had an interview with Dana Why, and he shared many interesting facts about the scene and the upcoming album. Check out the interview below.
You hail from New Jersey, a state where tons of great bands have emerged from… How do you see yourself fitting into its indie scene? What does “being from Jersey” mean to you?
I don’t really know, honestly. It’s never something I’m consciously considering when I make my music. I just want to make what I’d most want to hear, and usually that comes out in the form of borrowing from a lot of different regional sounds. I think a lot of people here in Asbury just love good music because so many of them are musicians themselves. So if you can show that to them, regardless of whether or not it fits some preconceived sound, they’ll embrace you.
Being from Jersey, you’re kind of operating with a bit of a chip on your shoulder by default. We’re sandwiched between Philly and NYC, two cities with sprawling and influential music scenes. We typically don’t even get our own sports teams. It sort of feels like little-brother syndrome, like you’ve always got something to prove. But I think that makes for some great art. The hungry break boundaries.
We understand you self-produced your brilliant forthcoming debut, The Lyre. Top to bottom, it’s a captivating listen. Did you recruit anyone to help shape it? Did you play all the instruments?
While I feel comfortable writing most things myself, I definitely do not feel comfortable playing everything. I do play a lot of the instruments on the record, but with certain things like horns or strings or drums, I don’t have a single clue. I feel incredibly fortunate to have so many talented friends to call on to help shape my music.
Biff Swenson is my number-one collaborator. He’s in most of my bands and every recorded project of mine. He played drums and some percussion on The Lyre and regularly puts up with me demanding some pretty ridiculous shit, which I’m always appreciative of. Ryan Harris is a super close friend of mine. We rented the studio space in Portland, Maine that we started the record in and he played a ton of guitar on it.
Jimmy Merchant laid down some incredible saxophone one night in my old Asbury apartment on Sunset. It was so fucking loud and we had neighbors who were already pretty uptight and I was sweating the whole time we recorded. It was awesome. My partner Avery sings harmony on a track, and Nick Gianatiempo laid down a couple basslines. Jenn Fantaccione sealed the deal on violin and cello. She gave everything this heightened, operatic intensity that I didn’t even know I was missing until she played. Her strings became essential to the sonic fingerprint of the record.
Would you categorize it as a breakup album, and if so, what advice would you give to others going through similarly difficult, confusing times?
Definitely. It’s as much of a breakup album about a person as it is about a place. I no longer had a future with my ex-fiancé, and I had to leave Portland, a place I loved, because of the job market. I felt so completely lost and hopeless. Very tunnel vision, no light at the end. You can only see the emptiness in front of you.
I would tell someone going through it that it’s not permanent. It never is. It’s super easy to succumb to the weight of the moment and let it crush you, to give up completely. I wanted to. But if you just take it one day at a clip, saying yes to whatever your friends ask you to do because it’s healthy to be around others in these times, eventually, each day you’ll feel a bit less shit than the one before. You’ll get introspective; you’ll learn more about yourself. You’ll have fallback days where you just want to wallow in it, and that’s fine. Just keep going. You will come out a better person 100% of the time.
You recently signed to Mint 400 Records. What’s it been like to have their support leading up to this release?
It’s been incredible. Neil is a great person to have on your team. He loves artists, and he’s always willing to go to bat on their behalf. He wants to support them on their journey and has no ego at all when it comes to letting them follow their own creative vision and call the shots. It’s incredibly commendable on its own, but especially in an industry that is typically downright hostile to artists.
You’ve mentioned when writing the record you were in the studio with a buddy musically letting loose, smoking a ton of cannabis and writing a ton—the ideas were just flowing—and that’s how this record materialized. What are some memories from that time period that you’ll never forget?
That whole year at Grime Studios with Ryan is unforgettable to me. To this day, it’s the only time I’ve ever had unfettered access to a place like that, where you can go literally any hour of the day and play as loud as you want. Driving through feet of snow to get there and set up our pedalboards in a small, 8×10 room while the space heater warmed us up. Walking the railroad tracks behind the place, ripping joints and talking about our guitar parts and ideas between recording sessions. Shout out to Justin Curtsinger who rented us the spot on a whim. He facilitated this record from the jump.
Another memory that’ll stay with me forever, I wrote “Night, Be Kind” about it. Ryan and I were having a late dinner at Congress Bar & Grill. On the walk home, probably around 11 p.m., we encountered a man who was very clearly on something, shirtless, and bleeding from the head. He kept walking up to us, mumbling “it’s fine, it’s cool…” or something to that effect.
Ryan told him to back off, but he just kept stumbling towards us, insisting there was no problem. The guy got between us somehow and had me heading one direction down Park Street and Ryan down the other in order to avoid him. And as I’m backing away from this guy, I look down the alley to my left, and another man is coming at me, full sprint. I can’t even really comprehend what’s going on, at first thinking he can’t be coming at me because why would he be? But he kept getting closer, and never altered his path. Just directly at me.
At this point I take off full sprint down Park and up Spring. I check behind me after a few seconds to see if anyone would emerge from around the corner in pursuit, but no one ever does. I walk up State street and see Ryan waiting up ahead near LFK and we just sit there, catching our breath and going apeshit over what just happened. Didn’t feel real at all.
Fun question: dream tour. Who are you sharing the bus with, and why?
Tough question! Maybe Earl Sweatshirt. I feel like he’d be less than enthused to be sharing a bus with me, but we’d smoke a ton of weed, and I’d ask him about the production on Some Rap Songs. I want to know how the sausage was made; it’s such a killer record. Maybe Charli XCX so I could convince her to let me produce a track with her.
The Knife because they’re weird as fuck, and I want to know what they’re like outside of music. I don’t know, I’d honestly love to just tour with my best friends again. I just got back from my first one ever with Little Hag and Yawn Mower, both of whom I play bass with, and packing all of our shit into and out of a van and playing a different state every night is such a delirious and funny and tough and rewarding journey that I can’t wait to experience over and over.
Follow Dana Why on his official website.
Photo courtesy of Dana Why
